Into the unknown

I have had an abundance to write about and nothing to say at the same time. Some of the situations my family, my husband, and I personally have been in is what everyone else around the world has been experiencing. My thought is “why write?” when I have nothing new, encouraging, or thought provoking to add to the collective.

It is seven months into 2020 and most of us are wanting it to quiet literally end. Tapping out of the other five months left and be done. Give me my millennial participation trophy, avocado toast and be done with it all. I feel like the pandemic has been a powder keg for many personal and worldly situations as well as amplified the bad in the world. In June, Trevor and I both had family members die within 12 hours of each other. We both have had many needed and appropriate policy changes at work. Trevor’s day-to-day job description has drastically changed with the stress of how to connect with teens over Zoom. It has also brought some joy. Our son started walking and talking more. We have had a lot of time to spend with him and the dogs in the kiddie pool. Our lives have slowed with the waves of stress. I am willing to bet my student loan debt that this narrative is not far off from yours’.

I am not good at sitting still. My husband knows this about me. I always have at least five projects in the back of my head. Honestly, I am just waiting for that small piece of carpet on the stairs to come up so I can Johanna Gaines the heck out of my staircase. See, I cannot stay still. I am telling you this so that you understand when I say I like change. I know, I know, I know. Coming from someone who has a Plan A-H for all situations, it sounds out of character.

When I was little, I had this superstitious ideology that all the good things in my life would sooner or later end because that had been my experience at that time. I have come to learn that it was seasons of life. I was going through seasons of life but through my immature brain, I was processing the good stuff “going away” as a punishment for who knows what. As I have “grown-up” (I use that loosely), I really do like change. Nothing worth-while, inspiring, or thought provoking ever came from a stagnant person or life.

So here Trevor and I are, in 2020. Both of us are starting projects in a world, in a political climate, in a public health crisis that are all uncertain. Nothing is guaranteed right now. Personally, I am living day to day when I used to live week to week, month to month because I had the oblivious confidence to plan that far in advance. This does not mean that I have lost my faith in the promise God has given us about always providing. I think I am more excited now about both of our ideas because of where it could take us both. The projects that we are doing together but separately are out of the box, to the point of when we tell some people, they pause. You know the pause? The pause of “how are they going to make that work? Do you even know what you’re doing?”. But here is the thing. I do not care about the pause anymore. The pause is outweighed by the passion and the thoughts I have running in my head at 2 a.m.: I am done with the world’s standards of success; I am getting off the ladder that’s been accepted and become the norm, pushing humans to step on one another; and I am not waiting on “the right time” to make a move. There will never be a right time if I keep waiting. Most of all, I am not going to be sixty-three years old with grand children telling them a story about how I regretted not chasing dreams that their grandpa and I had so much passion for.

Both Trevor and I are stepping out into the unknown with people who are investing their dreams and passion with us. Will we all fail? Depends on your definition of failing. Do we have all the loose ends tight up? No. Am I making myself vulnerable to some heartache and hurt along the way? Yes. Here is the thing, I am willing to risk it all for a dream I am passionate about than be sixty-three and regret not even attempting. Plus, I may just walk away with community, more joy for life, a few stories to tell, and maybe a little bit of more hope for the future. Come find me in 2023, I will let you know how it went for us.

Always shalom,

Rachelle